


Destructible Heroes

by a_dangerous_sociopath



Series: Emperor's New Clothes [1]
Category: Mortal Kombat - All Media Types
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Fluff, Grievous Injury, Kidnapping, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 17:55:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6205033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_dangerous_sociopath/pseuds/a_dangerous_sociopath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was supposed to be a simple, covert operation. Get in, get the intel, and get out. Sonya hasn't done any undercover work in a number of years, but better she go than to send Cassie out into the field on her own. Kenshi felt much the same way about Takeda. Between the two of them, they had quite a number of years in the field. They should have been fine, and even if things didn't go as planned, they had help waiting on the sidelines.</p><p>Maybe they should have expected everything to fall apart.</p><p>Now, time is working against them. In order to save the one he loves, Hanzo is going to have to learn that his one and only weakness is one blind man, fighting alone, wielding a sword.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**~Five Years Ago~**

He had only felt a chill like this once before; that cut so deep within him, all the way down to his bones, until his heart stuttered, his lungs seized, and his limbs became weak. That had been the time he'd accidentally cut into the path of one of Sub-zero's blasts. It hurt worse where he'd been injured, a deep, jagged cut that sank deep into his thigh. He'd been lucky that nothing major had been hit. It was tightly wrapped for now, the best they could do out here in the wilderness, but he knew it would have to be tended to soon. For now here he was, almost waist deep in snow in one of the most uninhabitable places in the world. But he had to keep going. The information that he had was more important than his own life. If he could just get to civilization, some semblance of it, so that he might finally pass it on to Sonya...

"Takahashi!" Kenshi could just barely make out the voice of his friend over the howling wind. "You can go no further tonight. You have to stop."

"I can't." Kenshi replied, and was momentarily startled to hear the sound of his own voice escaping his lips sounding so weak and out of it. 

He only managed one more step, nearly tumbling in the process, before Hanzo grabbed his arm, tugging Kenshi back. Kenshi stumbled a bit, his balance wavering, his frigid muscles crying out in agony around his injury as he was tugged back against the other man's chest. It was telling, perhaps, that Kenshi made no real effort to get away from him, simply shaking against Hanzo's chest, feeling the other man's arms move around him, shaking off the snow that had accumulated on his armor. 

Hanzo said nothing for a moment, and Kenshi's head tipped to the side as Hanzo laid a hand against his neck. It took Kenshi far too long to realize that Hanzo was assessing him; all he could really think of at that moment was just how pleasantly warm Hanzo's hand felt against his skin.

"Why didn't you tell me it had gotten so bad?" Hanzo demanded, then as he began to tug Kenshi from the path he'd memorized so clearly in his head. "Your heart is racing. Your temperature is dropping. You need to rest."

"I can't." Kenshi replied, slowly, somehow managing to get the words out from his chattering teeth. "Hanzo we have to keep going. If we don't go back we'll die out here anyways, all for nothing."

"No." Hanzo said simply. "I would survive. You would not." 

Kenshi knew in an instant that Hanzo was likely correct. He wasn't sure that anything could affect his friend for long. Even now Hanzo's flesh seemed to burn against his, that supernatural fire that seemed to rage under his skin was always present, always there. He didn't even feel remotely cold. 

Hanzo's grip on his arm tightened, and Kenshi felt himself being gently led away from the road. 

"There's a cave near here, we passed it a ways ago." Hanzo explained. "We're going to shelter there for the night. I will build a fire, and you will rest." Hanzo ordered, as he gently led Kenshi along.

Kenshi wanted to protest, he honestly did. But Hanzo was doing his honest best to shelter him from the cold, his body pressed against Kenshi's offering what little warmth he could, though little of it could reach him through the combined thickness of their armors. It was comforting, supportive. Hanzo was strong, and fast, but he kept pace with Kenshi, catching the man when he stumbled, determinedly fighting to get him to safety. Disoriented and freezing, Kenshi didn't fight.

Eventually, from the way the air shifted and the consistency of the snow around them, Kenshi knew they had reached the cave. It still took them some time to fully escape the snow, but Hanzo was determined, and finally after some pushing and pulling, their boots landed on more or less dry ground. A bit further into the cave and Kenshi's boots stepped on a branch, nearly stumbling him, but for the strong arms of Hanzo supporting him. It was a good sign, he told himself, that they'd have fuel to burn in there.

Sheltered from the wind and the snow, Kenshi finally began to feel like he could breathe again, the pain in his thigh slightly more bearable, the cold still strong but not as biting. 

Hanzo continued to move with him, finally tucking Kenshi into a corner of the cave, forcing him to sit on the ground, his back against the cave wall, his hurt thigh stretched out in front of him.

He could feel the other man hovering over him for a harried moment, as the man seemed to debate what to do next. Getting an inkling of the other man's thoughts, Kenshi chuckled.

"I won't be frozen to death by the time you return." Kenshi assured him, working to get the words out between chattering teeth. "I'll survive a few moments more while you build the fire up."

"You'd better not be." Hanzo replied, and Kenshi's breath was stolen by the force of the other man's concern. "I'll return as quickly as I can."

Hanzo left a lingering hand on his shoulder, before finally moving away. As the sound of Hanzo's boots moved away from him, Kenshi turned his focus to his own, brooding thoughts. 

He knew that Hanzo didn't need to stay there with him. The man likely wasn't hindered by the snow. He could just as easily as anyone deliver the information Sonya needed. At this point, Kenshi was just slowing him down. He really ought to tell the other man to stop; whatever he was doing, it wasn't as important as it was to reach Sonya. He should just go on without him.

Of course, Kenshi knew, the odds of him surviving the night on his own. Injured and weak, he wouldn't make it through the night without proper attention. He didn't have the strength. 

Even still, he knew it would be the right thing to do.

Kenshi heard the rush of the air, the chemical reaction when the twigs and branches already inside the cave caught alight, felt the temperature of the air immediately change and grow warmer as Hanzo finally got the fire going. He heard Hanzo's boots slide across gravel as he tended to it, for a moment. 

Kenshi got lost in his thoughts again, as he thought over the situation, tried to think of the best way to send his good friend on without him. 

He must have dozed off at some point, because when Hanzo came back he didn't notice. There was simply Hanzo's hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently. Startled, Kenshi jerked awake, accidentally yanking at his wounded thigh. It stole the breath from his lungs, as Kenshi tried to deal with the sudden pain as best as he could.

"Try not to sleep yet." Hanzo admonished softly. "We still have much to do. We need to get out of these wet things... I still have a few emergency blankets; we'll wrap ourselves up in those." 

Kenshi felt the worry again, behind those words, and Kenshi wondered just how out of it he'd been, how sluggish he'd been to respond. Hanzo's tone was uncharacteristically gentle, as well, so clearly he was very, very afraid for Kenshi's safety. That would make sending him on ahead without him fairly difficult, but... He had to try.

"You don't have to do this." Kenshi said quietly. "You can... Still go on ahead." Kenshi worked to get out.

"Just... Send someone after me once you find help. But Sonya needs that information, and if I can't get it to her..."

"No." Hanzo said firmly, that hand on his shoulder giving him a firm squeeze. "I am not leaving you. Sonya will be fine without it, for one night, while you recuperate." 

"Hanzo..." Kenshi tried again. "It's vital that she..."

"No." Hanzo said again, his voice firmer, darker, but he wasn't fooling anyone. There was honest fear in that tone. Fear for him. "If I leave you you'll die."

"I would be alright." Kenshi replied, despite knowing that to be a lie. 

Hanzo was silent a few moments, and Kenshi hoped he was considering it. Instead, Hanzo reached out, drawing a shockingly warm thumb across his lower lip, causing Kenshi to gasp out loud.

"Your lips are turning blue." Hanzo replied, quietly, as if that should be all the convincing Kenshi needed that he would not survive the night. "I'm not going to lose you tonight. I can't."

With that one, simple word, Kenshi thought that perhaps he understood. Hanzo sounded so... Hurt by the confession. Wrecked. The man had already lost so much in his life, friends, family, his clan, his identity. He probably couldn't bear the thought of possibly losing another.

Silently, Hanzo began to undo the straps of Kenshi's armor. Kenshi did nothing to try and stop him, or even try to convince him to move on. It would be pointless to, now that he had seen Hanzo's stubborn fear for him. The other man took great care with him, with a gentleness that Kenshi had rarely experienced, except for the rare lover. With each article removed, the cold seemed to rush in, hammering harshly against each and every inch of newly exposed flesh. Not even the fire burning nearby was able to cut through much of the cold.

Finally, Hanzo got him naked, except for the boxers he was wearing, which thankfully hadn't been too damp to leave on. Kenshi felt the strange sensation of Hanzo's eyes lingering on him, for a moment, and he wondered briefly what the other man could be staring at. Then he felt a hand settle on his thigh, just above the injury, and he realized that Hanzo had been staring at the wound.

"How deep does it go?" Hanzo had asked, as he pressed along the injury with clear concern. Kenshi just shook his head.

"It's fine. It just bled a lot. I don't think that there's anything to be done for it now." Kenshi explained. 

Hanzo seemed to understand, and without adding anything else went to drape one of the emergency blankets over Kenshi's prone form. Kenshi caught the edge of it gratefully, tugging the thin piece of reflective fabric up to his chin.

He listened carefully to Hanzo shuffling around after that, hearing the man remove his own armor, taking less care with it than with his own. Kenshi settled back and tried to relax. The thermal blanket helped, a little, just like the fire. But it wasn't enough. Thermal blankets tended to reflect one's own body heat, keeping it trapped, and since Kenshi was clearly in the first stages of hypothermia, it wasn’t doing much to help him. Kenshi continued to shiver, his body shaking uncontrollably, his teeth clenched tightly together in an effort not to grind them. He was going to have a killer headache, later, he just knew it.

"I said, do NOT fall asleep."

Kenshi jerked awake again, not realizing that he'd dozed off, again, while waiting for Hanzo. He felt the other man's hand suddenly at his shoulder, gently pushing him forwards. Kenshi moved with it, curious, until he felt Hanzo slip in behind him. The man settled against the wall that Kenshi was previously leaning against, and once he was comfortable, as well as one could be when sitting on a rock floor in their underwear, tugged Kenshi back to lay against his chest. 

Skin to skin, Kenshi's back to Hanzo's lightly furred chest. It was hardly the strangest thing Kenshi had ever done, but it was still a bit awkward to be sitting like this with his friend. He knew it was for the best, this would help the two of them to survive the night, and Hanzo was just so, so comfortable and warm. He shouldn't be enjoying this as much as he was.

Kenshi settled back, as best as he could. In this new position Hanzo's thighs cradled his hips, his knees propped up by Hanzo's loosely folded legs, one of those thick arms resting across his stomach. The other hand was trying to arrange them, tucking the blankets around them, trying to make the most effective use of their combined body heat, trying to warm Kenshi. He felt strangely small in this rather intimate position, as if he'd never actually realized just how big his friend was. Kenshi felt like he was drowning in Hanzo's arms. And, perhaps even stranger, he didn't necessarily think that was a bad thing. It was actually... Rather nice.

"How long was I out this time?” Kenshi asked, wondering where he could place his hands that wouldn't be too 'weird'. This all seemed strange enough. He finally gave up, placing them on Hanzo's knees. If the other man minded he didn't say.

"Long enough." Hanzo answered, gruffly. "A few minutes, at most. But it was enough to have me worried."

Kenshi frowned at that, and placed a hand over Hanzo's where it rested against his stomach.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, as he laid his head back to rest it against a broad shoulder. "You shouldn't have to worry over me."

He felt Hanzo shrug, very gently, as though a part of the man was trying not to dislodge Kenshi's head from his shoulder. In fact, overall, Hanzo was being incredibly gentle with him, and he didn't know if that was because of Hanzo's fear for his health, or something else.

"You've always been reckless, Kenshi. Driven. Stubborn. Focused wholeheartedly on your goals. These are not bad things," Hanzo was quick to amend. "But rarely a day goes by when I am not worried for you."

 

**Present Day**

 

"For fuck's sake, Johnny, I don't understand why this is such a big deal for you. We're not really getting married, and Kenshi's going to be sleeping on the futon." Sonya shouted into her phone, glancing over to the other man, currently spread out over the bed in question.

Kenshi, while not quite tracking her movements, seemed to at least be amused by the situation. 

"We're just acting like a couple for the mission. It's not like we're going to be sleeping together, we're not..." Sonya sighed, having to pinch the bridge of her nose when Johnny interrupted, all fluster.

"I just don't understand why it has to be him." Johnny shouted back, and Sonya could practically hear the other man bristling from the other end of the line. "You know I would have been totally capable of breaking into the Black Dragon's sex cave or whatever-the-fuck." 

"Johnny." Sonya said, her voice taking on a tone of exaggerated patience as she sunk into the bed next to Kenshi. The other man rolled over onto his side, placing a supportive hand on Sonya's back. The longer Johnny whined, the more Kenshi looked more appealing to her, strangely enough. It didn't help that the other man looked damned good today. When she and Kenshi signed onto this mission she made it a point to buy him some civvies, something that would help him look the part of a vacationing American man on his honeymoon with his new wife. He had on a brown leather bomber jacket, a black button up shirt, a pair of nicely fitted blue jeans, which had been tucked into the distinctly western looking brown leather boots he had on. It made Sonya want to play dress up with him more often, because if he looked good in that simple outfit, she wanted to see what else he'd look good in.

"I couldn't have you playing the part of my husband. You ARE my ex-husband. It would be too obvious. And how the fuck am I supposed to bring in a guy who's courting his first Oscar into Tokyo to infiltrate a human trafficking operation?" Sonya continued logically. "You coming along on this mission would be a goddamned nightmare. You're better off where you're at, doing promotional stuff in Osaka with your team until Kenshi and I need you."

"Please, I saw what you two did, with that Clark Kent horse shit. You really think those aviators are going to conceal his identity?" Johnny asked impertinently on the other line. "Like I couldn't give the movie star thing a rain check for one day. A pair of fucking aviators."

"Those are more to cover his eyes, and quit being a jerk, Johnny."

Sonya rolled her eyes as that launched Johnny into another tirade. Kenshi smirked, although he couldn't hear what was going on, he clearly must have had some idea of the earful Sonya was getting. The blonde finally decided she'd had enough, and cut Johnny off with a low growl.

"Johnny, look. We'll discuss it after tomorrow. Right now, I'm tired, and both me and Kenshi have to get up early for reconnaissance. I'll talk to you after."

With that, Sonya hung up her phone and placed it on silent. Then, on a whim, she tossed it onto the foot of the bed, letting out some of the built up frustration inside.

Kenshi simply continued to rub her back, offering his silent support. 

"So how come your ninja boyfriend isn't blowing up your phone?" Sonya asked, as she leaned into Kenshi's soft touch.

Kenshi must have shrugged in return, because there was a slight pause before he continued to seek out the sore muscles in her back. "Mostly, I assume, because he doesn't much care for the technology." 

"No?" Sonya asked, pulling away from Kenshi's very skilled hands so that she could look at him properly. "But he has a phone." 

"For emergencies." Kenshi clarified. "And, more for my benefit, than for his. I don't know how much experience you've had doing undercover work, Sonya. But I like to have a back door, just in case things go awry."

"I thought I was your back door." Sonya said, not offended, but curious.

"I think it's smarter to have more than one." Kenshi told her pointedly. "Hanzo's my last resort, so to speak. When all else fails, he's the one I want coming after me."

Sonya nodded, because that made sense. For all that Johnny was annoying the piss out of her right now, she was glad that he wasn't a continent away. If things soured on this undercover mission with Kenshi, she wanted Johnny nearby, just in case.

"So how's Hanzo handling this mission then?" Sonya asked, out of curiosity.

"Let's just say, that after fifteen years, Hanzo has suddenly remembered that he has business in the suburbs of Tokyo." Kenshi said, and the man clearly couldn't help the smirk that crossed his face.

"You're shitting me." Sonya replied, mouth agape. And she thought Johnny calling her every three seconds was bad... 

"Not at all." Kenshi assured her. "Hanzo's a terribly jealous man. And besides... He seemed a little concerned by the nature of our mission."

Sonya could understand that as well. It wasn't for nothing that they were paired up on this mission. The Special Forces had recently received Intel that the Black Dragon were operating in the area, not simply stealing tech, either. For some reason, they picked some of the seedier areas of Tokyo to operate a human trafficking ring. They were targeting mainly tourists, men and boys who were young, good-looking and naive. Kidnapping them off of the streets and taking them from their families, to sell into sexual slavery on Outworld. Their plan to shut it down was risky... To say the least. 

The idea was to get Kenshi kidnapped, and drug into the organization. From there, he was to find a terminal, and simply insert the card he'd have on him into it, gathering all the information on the Black Dragon that they'd need. 

Sonya would be watching him from the outside via a gps chip they'd sewn into his jacket. Once Kenshi got what he needed, he was to escape. Sonya would be there to assist him in that if necessary. He wasn't to play hero or attempt anything else until a SpecOps team, led by Johnny, came in to clear the place out. 

She didn't blame Hanzo for having nerves about the mission. She wouldn't have blamed Kenshi, either, only he seemed pretty Zen about the whole thing. About the only thing that didn't sit well with him was that he was fairly certain he'd missed the mark on that whole young, good-looking, naive and submissive pretty boy thing, which seemed to be what these people were targeting. (Which, Sonya had so much to say about, really, just, so much, but the poor man was already missing his eyes, she didn't want to talk his ear off about how handsome he was too.)

"Would it help him to know that this isn't my first rodeo?" Sonya asked, looking to Kenshi. "I've done covert work before. Not as much as I used to, but that doesn't mean I can't keep control of things, or have your back."

Kenshi smiled, looking to Sonya. "I don't think he's worried about that. He knows your prowess." He tried to explain. "It's just that... Things go wrong, sometimes, despite taking the necessary precautions."

Sonya tried not to think about how Cassie came to be, and simply nodded. 

"Tomorrow's going to be a long day... We ought to get some rest." 

She gave Kenshi a long look, before moving to give him a playful shove. "Move. The futon's over there."

Kenshi just grinned, moving back with the shove. "I do not recall consenting to sleeping on the futon. I think I should get the bed, particularly since it's my ass on the line tomorrow."

"We'll share it." Sonya decided, still playing. "But I'm not blowing you."

"Yet." Kenshi answered, as he moved to dress down for the night. Sonya smirked. She enjoyed the banter between the two of them, but one of these days, she was going to take him up on it just to see his face. She couldn’t wait.


	2. Chapter 2

**~Four Years Ago~**

 

Kenshi had always been a handsome man, for as long as she had known him, and she wasn't the only one who thought so. There weren't many other girls living on the base, but she'd overheard a few conversations from a few of the younger recruits, comparing him to the likes of Robert Downey Jr. Which… okay, that was a fair comparison. She remembered one time, when Kenshi was sheltering in the barracks, having to chase out a group of female recruits who were trying to spy on him in the men's shower. Cassie had been grounded for a long, long time for that.

 

Even now, almost 20 years after she had first met him, he was still quite good looking. Muscular, like most of the men she knew, but toned. The few strands of silver that streaked through his chocolate brown hair made him look sophisticated, rather than aged. She even liked the beard, despite it not being her preference on guys. On him, it just looked good.

 

It helped of course that he was genuinely a nice guy. He insisted that it wasn't always the case. Apparently, before he'd been struck blind, he'd been rather arrogant, and something of a Casanova. His humility had to be earned, and his blindness was the penalty he paid. Sonya had never met that side of him, of course, though she thought she could perhaps see traces of it, from time to time. Whenever he smirked at a compliment from a pretty girl, or flirted with someone just for the sake of flirting, that's when Sonya thought she could see a glimpse of the arrogant man she's never met.

 

For her part, she was fond of Kenshi as a friend. When she first lost Jax to the Netherrealm, she leaned rather heavily on Kenshi for comfort, or just to have him as a listening ear.  Johnny did what he could, but he tended to have a harder time sorting through her emotions. His idea of comforting was to panic and try to buy her something to make it better. Or crack dick jokes.

 

Some days Sonya had no idea how she ended up in bed with Johnny over Kenshi. Not that she really regretted the way things had turned out. Johnny was sweet in his own way, and he made her laugh. But she had always felt a trace of a missed opportunity there, especially now that they were both seeing other people.

 

When Cassie was going through her rebellious teen phase, she'd once told her mother she should have fucked him just so she could say she did. Sonya had told her daughter to stop listening to her father when he talked.

 

But now, sitting across from her ex-husband at the bar, watching her ex-husband pretend not to ogle some scantily clad red-head with clear daddy issues, Sonya found her own attention drifting over to look for Kenshi, to see what he was doing.

 

Kenshi was sitting on top of one of the pool tables, leaning backwards over it with one of the cues, practicing his shot. His legs were spread wide, legs hooked under the table to keep his balance, back arched as he leaned over, clearly aiming for some kind of strange trick shot. His beer was sitting precariously beside his left thigh, in danger of being knocked over if Kenshi moved one centimeter in the wrong direction. She knew he wouldn't budge it. At the moment, he wasn't playing against anyone, and she supposed she should be grateful for that. Kenshi's preternatural ability to make these amazing shots despite being blind had gotten her dragged into quite a few bar fights with him over the years.

 

Tossing her reservations aside, she slid off of the barstool she was seated on and moved over to Kenshi's side.

 

Sonya didn't mind invading Kenshi's personal space, knowing that the man wasn't bothered by her closeness. She slid right on up between his legs, placed a hand on his thigh, and for all intents and purposes, made herself at home. Kenshi, bless him, didn't so much as startle. She'd known men with 20/20 vision who'd have jumped out of their skin.

 

Kenshi dragged a tongue over his teeth, still concentrating on his shot, but clearly aware that she was there. He nudged his cue a careful centimeter to the side. "Johnny's been paying an awful lot of attention to that other girl hasn't he?" He asked, before pulling the cue back and letting the ball fly. She had to admit, it was an impressive shot. The ball hit one wall after the other, sending the other balls careening into holes in the corner pockets. If Sonya had any understanding about how this game worked, she might have been impressed, just a little. It just wasn't something she'd ever gotten into. When she came to the bar, she came there to drink, and she took that job very, very seriously. Kenshi himself didn’t seem pleased by it, but the man could sometimes be a bit of a perfectionist. His shot was probably fine.

 

"Yeah, and I'm going to need you to help me threaten his masculinity." Sonya said, unashamed, as she began to run her hand over Kenshi's thigh affectionately.

 

Kenshi continued to concentrate on the ball, for just a moment longer. Apparently, he wasn't quite satisfied with its trajectory, which made Sonya rather unsatisfied with him. She placed a hand on his cheek, gently tugging him up and around, so that he was facing her.

 

"Kenshi." She told him sweetly. "I have spent most of the night being ignored by my ex-husband. If you ignore me too I will castrate you."

 

"Right." Kenshi agreed immediately, dropping the cue and turning his full attention towards her. She smiled at that, moving to lean in a bit closer.

 

"Kenshi..." Sonya said her voice sweet and lyrical. "I have kind of a strange question for you..." She began, casually enough.

 

"You want to know why we didn't hook up that night eighteen years ago." Kenshi finished for her. Playing along with Sonya's game, he reached out with a gentle, gloved hand, and rested it on her hip.

 

She dug her nails into his thigh a bit for reading her mind, but quickly relaxed. "Well, I've been thinking about it lately." She said, moving in to press against him just slightly. Her chest to his, his legs parting wider to accommodate her hips. "For a while there, I was incredibly interested, and I like to think you were too."

 

Kenshi chewed on his lip for a moment, thinking back to that night. For being so long ago, the memory stuck out in his mind. With his free hand, he reached up to run his fingers through Sonya's hair. He couldn't go past the tie that held her blonde tresses in that ponytail, but Sonya treasured the touch anyways. She missed having this kind of attention from Johnny, so there was something very comforting in it.

 

"You were grieving." Kenshi recalled, as he continued to stroke her hair. "And Johnny had been broadcasting his own interests for a while." He noted. "It wasn't the right time."

 

Sonya gave him a little shrug, her hand finding its way to rest against Kenshi's chest.

 

"I've always kind of regretted it, maybe a little." She said, brushing the back of her hand along his chest. Kenshi had foregone the armored plating he typically wore, considering that this was a casual get together among the Special Forces senior officers. He would have looked out of place in anything other than the dark red, and unadorned leather jacket he was in. She almost wanted to ask if Hanzo had picked it out, as clothes shopping wasn't a thing Kenshi frequently did. “It was just… by the next day you were gone…”

 

“With Hanzo.” Kenshi recalled. “Right. That was… an adventure.” He settled for, thinking back to that three month period.

  
  
Yeah, Sonya had always wanted to ask him about that. Kenshi had never really elaborated on what three months alone in the wilderness with Hanzo had consisted of, but she had always suspected that he hadn’t been easy on Kenshi. She intercepted them, once, during that time, in a somewhat desperate bid to rescue Kenshi and get Hanzo back under her control… Only for a bruised-up Kenshi to politely tell her to back off, let him handle Hanzo. Sonya did… but she always kind of regretted it. She would always wonder if she’d left Kenshi behind with a maniac. She should have put up more of a fight, should have recaptured Hanzo and send Kenshi off for an eval, but she trusted him. She trusted him, and let Hanzo carry off her close friend once again. After Kenshi returned, (after Hanzo allowed him to return,) things had changed between them. Not necessarily for the worse, because she was always glad to have him as a friend, and he was always very flirtatious. It was just different, and for her, it had been strange. It was like he was spoken for, a full fifteen years before he’d even officially begun dating Hanzo.

 

"Cassie could have had you for a father." She joked, poorly.

 

"She would have been disappointed. Takeda has assured me." Kenshi shrugged, dropping his hand from her hair. She was kind of disappointed to have him let go. He grasped onto the edge of the pool table, kicking his legs out slightly as he seemed to relax, which was fine with Sonya.

 

"You'd have made a good father." Sonya assured him. "If you'd had any choice in the matter."

 

Kenshi chuckled softly, as he continued to feel along the edge of the table. "It hardly matters, now." He told her. "Is... There a reason you bring up that night, so long ago?"

 

"Not particularly." She said. "Other than to tell you, you're a damn good kisser, and my ex should be a lot more threatened than he is."

 

Kenshi smiled at that, leaning in a bit closer, and sending something of a thrill up Sonya's spine. They were both being bad, just awful, and she was loving every minute of it.

 

"Well, that's something you didn't need to tell me." Kenshi told her, with a bit of haughtiness to his tone when his nose just about brushed hers. "I already know."

 

But just as they were about close in on that kiss, Kenshi was suddenly pulled back.

 

Sonya was stunned to suddenly have the other man ripped out of her arms, and it took her a moment to get her bearings. But when she did, she flushed at the scene in front of her.

 

She had no idea when Hanzo had entered the room. She had no idea Hanzo was even there, at the bar, at all. But somehow, he appears out of the ether when she's about to kiss Kenshi because, somehow, the man sensed what was happening and decided to stake a claim? Sometimes the man just didn't make sense.

 

Hanzo had ducked in, grabbed a handful of Kenshi's hair at the nape of his neck, and yanked him, hard, away from Sonya, arching his back and neck at a degree that looked painfully obscene. But from the look on Kenshi's face, he was clearly anything but in pain. In fact, he kind of looked like he was enjoying himself.

 

Sonya took a few more steps back, enough to give Hanzo room to move in.

 

Hanzo settled himself between Kenshi's legs like he belonged there, gently tugging Kenshi up and out of his seated position so he could be face to face with him.

 

Before Kenshi or Sonya could say anything further, Hanzo's hand found Kenshi's hip, his gloved hand making its way slowly up the man's side, along his rib cage, fingers dancing gently across the other man's shoulders. Whatever snarky phrase was about to escape Kenshi's lips was quickly forgotten, as Hanzo's fingers trailed a line up Kenshi's neck, along his jaw, before sliding their way into the other's thick brown hair. Hanzo took a fistful of it, tugging the other man up and out of the seated position he was in on top of the pool table. Kenshi could have easily resisted the hold, Sonya knew, and sent Hanzo back with a telekinetic blast. But she could practically see the shiver of excitement that raced up Kenshi's spine at the possessive treatment, the way his knees grew weak when Hanzo took control and forced him where he wanted him. Kenshi could have resisted, easily, but he chose not to. Hanzo manipulated Kenshi until he had the other man pushed up against the table, his hip pressed tight to the edge as Hanzo leaned up against him, chest to chest, hip to hip. One of Kenshi's hands found the collar of the shirt Hanzo was wearing for support, while the other grasped for balance, grabbing onto Hanzo's hip desperately, just to keep from falling backwards as Hanzo continued to lean over him.

 

With Kenshi trapped the way he liked, Hanzo leaned in, finally capturing Kenshi's lips in a forceful, rough kiss. Kenshi's lips parted for him almost immediately, allowing Hanzo to plunder him as he wished, tongues dancing against each other, Hanzo pressing his advantage and Kenshi giving into it easily. Sonya began to back off again, an apology on her lips but Hanzo clearly didn't care enough to acknowledge her. Everything he cared about, everything he loved and treasured was right there in front of him.

 

When Hanzo finally pulled back, allowing Kenshi to get in a breath, the other man was panting softly, shallowly, mouth hanging open slightly, a trickle of saliva slowly making its way down his chin and disappearing into his beard. Hanzo smirked quietly, letting his finger gently swipe over the trail, before moving to gently rub over Kenshi's lower lip.

 

"I'm bringing you home." Hanzo whispered to the other man, low enough that Sonya could only barely hear it.  It dragged a smile out of the other man, who pushed himself away from the pool table. Hanzo allowed it, stepping with Kenshi, one hand finding his arm, as he was still rather unwilling to let his lover go completely.

 

"I'll go anywhere you want me to." Kenshi replied softly, as he moved with the other man, allowing Hanzo to position him again as he saw fit.

 

His arm found its way to Kenshi's waist, sliding beneath the sword that always hung at his back and taking a hold of the man's belt. Kenshi slung his arm around Hanzo's shoulders, leaning against him easily as they moved as a unit towards the establishment's entrance.

 

Sonya watched the two of them go, only a tad puzzled at the possessive display. She called after Kenshi.

 

"Hey, call me sometime soon, okay?"

 

Kenshi offered her a fond salute, before continuing on with his boyfriend.

 

Sonya watched them for a moment, until she was suddenly grabbed, a familiar hand taking a hold of her arm and whipping her around. She placed her hands on her hips as she turned to face her clearly very jealous ex-husband, who seemed like he was about to have a meltdown on the scale on Hanzo Hasashi's.

 

"What the hell was that about?" Johnny demanded.

 

Sonya merely gave him a smirk.

 

**~Present Day~**

 

Five minutes ago, Kenshi realized he’d been drugged.

 

He didn’t notice it at first, and he was kicking himself for it, now. This event was loud, the music, the noise, the invasive thoughts drifting from the large crowd invaded every pore. It was hard for him to concentrate. Sure, he’d been able to keep up the ruse. He acted like he was having a good time. He even got hit on by a few of the girls, though he was able to quickly scare them off by showing them the ring that signified his false relationship with Sonya. They would pout and move onto other prey, leaving Kenshi to do his job.

When the bartender handed him the shot and told him it was from the blond lady, he figured it had to have been Sonya. Yeah, they were on the job, but they were supposed to be blending in, looking like a couple of vacationing tourists. One drink probably wasn’t going to hurt. It wasn’t until after he’d shotgunned it that he picked up on a stray thought, in the center of the crowd, millions of other thoughts competing to be heard, rendering his shields useless.

  
  
One simple thought… _Got him._

 

Kenshi swore to himself, before pushing away from the bar, in an attempt to find his partner. It took him a moment… the thoughts of the undulating crowd were cloying, nearly as bad as the drug in his drink. They crowded in his brain, a fog of emotions and drama. Just as the drug had begun to have its affect, he found her.

 

Sonya had somehow made it out to the dance floor, not really dancing, but certainly keeping a watch on things. Other men made passes at her, and her disinterest was broadcasted loud and clear. On her back, she carried the guitar case that hid both of their weapons in plain sight. It took him a while to reach her, pushing through the crowd, through the mass of undulating bodies, the stench of alcohol and various other substances filling the air. Before he could get close to her, the drugs had begun to take effect. The room had already begun to spin, and Kenshi knew he was going to be in serious trouble if he didn’t reach his CO before they completely took effect and sent him sprawling to the dance floor. Before he could even really get out there he could feel unseen hands reaching for him, brushing along his arms, trying to grab him and pull him into the darkness.

 

Then Sonya grabbed his arm, startling him until he realized it was her.  She yanked him in and then delivered a solid crack to the jaw of the person who had clearly been following him, laying the man out on the floor.

“What the fuck-“ Sonya began, glancing at the fallen man. She quickly put two and two together, grabbed Kenshi again and began to pull him off of the dance floor.

“I’m not sending you in there drugged.” She thought, loudly, clearly meaning for Kenshi to hear her, and he did, amidst the minds of the hundred other people there.  “We’re pulling out.”

 

Kenshi wanted to protest, he really did, but the drug was making him slow... Sluggish. But even still, as they moved through the crowd, Kenshi could sense eyes on the two of them, people with evil thoughts, evil intentions, their attentions narrowed down and focused on him. On taking him, and on hurting Sonya, if she doesn't let him go.

 

They weren't going to let him go without a fight, Kenshi knew that intimately. And Sonya was determined, she thought it foolhardy to let him go in this state, but really, what could they do?

 

Using the last of his quickly fading strength, Kenshi pulled Sonya aside, finding a wall with which he could sink down against. He ended up with his back against the wall, his knees pulled up to his chest. Her thoughts were projecting confusion, and worry, but Kenshi simply waved her off as she crouched down next to him.

 

"Don't bother, just go." He told her gently, his body trembling violently from the effects of the drug on his system. "Just go. I can still handle this."

 

Sonya said nothing for a moment, and it took Kenshi a moment to realize she was scoping the place out. Satisfied that they were more or less alone, she ducked down so that she could talk into his ear. He tilted his head to the side to better accommodate her, inadvertently felt her lips brushing against his hair.

 

"Kenshi, I don't know what that drug is going to do to you. I don't know how long you're going to be out, I don't know how it's going to affect you." Sonya replied. "No, I'm not letting you do this."

 

Even as Sonya was admonishing him, however, Kenshi could feel the other men swarming, coming closer, all intent on taking him with them. Kenshi just shook his head.

 

"They're not going to give you a choice, Sonya." Kenshi replied. He scrabbled for a moment, as the drug hit him again, leaving him dizzy.

 

"We're out numbered, there are at least ten of them in this room." Kenshi continued. "You can't take them all yourself, and I'm useless right now." He said.

 

"Yeah, we didn't plan it to go like this, but this isn't the end of the mission. I can still pull this off, just let me go." Kenshi replied. "Don't get yourself hurt over me. I still need you on the outside in case things go wrong. Come on..." He said, his voice imploring. "Just let me do this."

 

Sonya sighed, clearly exasperated with him.

 

Then the first assailant struck. Sonya whipped herself around, moving to fight him off. Weakly, Kenshi moved to stand, using the wall to help him along. As he did so, he became aware of a man coming up his right flank, preparing to grab him. He was summarily aware that there would be very little Kenshi could do about it. His was so, so tired, so weak, and having trouble attempting to steady himself. He flinched when the henchman finally grabbed him, but could do little else as he was pulled tightly up against this stranger's chest, hand quickly finding and covering his mouth, pulling his arm behind his back. He could hear Sonya's faint, shouted "No!" against the backdrop of the loud, pounding music and the push and pull of bodies who were either unaware of what was happening, or simply didn't care. She tried to come after him, he could tell by the sounds of the fighting happening close by, trying to move closer.  But ultimately it was all for nothing. Kenshi's awareness was quickly dimming as the drug took its hold.

 

All he could do was project one final thought to Sonya, the number that he always kept close to his mind, his last resort when things went wrong.

He sent her Hanzo's number.

Then, everything went dark, and Kenshi finally slipped into unconsciousness. He just hoped that she got the message, and was able memorize it in time.

**~**

Sonya stumbled out of the club, through some back door that was hidden from the public, sporting a black eye, and a cut across her thigh. Luckily, that seemed to be the extent of her injuries, and lord knows the men that attacked her and Kenshi inside weren't going to be getting up anytime soon. She looked around desperately, trying to find the men that had taken Kenshi, some sign of them. She wanted to find them, stop them before they got too far with her friend. The plan had never involved Kenshi being drugged. They didn't know how they were taking  their victims, but somehow the men being drugged hadn't entered into their plans. It wasn't going to work with Kenshi being unconscious. He had to be awake, to get the information they needed, and escape. As it was, they had no control over the situation. Anything could happen; Kenshi would be in there, defenseless. And if they took him off-world before she could reach him…

 

She could lose him forever.

 

She moved down the dark alley behind the bar, shifting the guitar case on her back. She considered taking out her gun, but before she could do anything, she spotted them at the end of the alley.

 

There was a small, inconspicuous tan van there. There were a few men dressed darkly, moving around it, shifting bags inside of it. In the arms of one of the men lay Kenshi, sleeping the deep sleep of a man drugged unconscious. With each subtle movement, Kenshi's limbs swung limply, uselessly.

 

Sonya pressed herself against a damp, filthy wall, watching carefully. If she thought the number of henchmen inside was overkill, there were far more of them out here. Kenshi was right; she didn't stand a chance at saving him. Even if she had pulled the gun, it wouldn't have made a difference. There were too many of them, and she wasn't interested in getting into a gun battle when Kenshi was defenseless and caught in the middle. One stray bullet could end his life, and she wouldn't risk him like that.

 

She'd have to count on the gps sewn into his jacket to save him.

 

Well, that and the number Kenshi had sent to her, before he finally succumbed to the drug. It didn't take much to figure out that that was probably Hanzo's number, after he had told her yesterday. He wanted her to invoke his back door.

 

Sonya ducked down behind a dumpster, keeping a low profile as she watched these men bind Kenshi and slip him into the back of the van. A few of the men climbed in after him, and a few moments later, the van was started, and it took off, bounding clumsily out of the alley and turning onto the street.

 

When she was certain she was alone, she took out her phone, and dialed Johnny first. Kenshi probably would have wanted her to call Hanzo first, but honestly, she wanted Johnny with her when she told Hanzo the bad news.

 

Because Hanzo was going to be _pissed_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More introspective Kenshi + Sonya. IDK why but I love the idea of these two being so close.
> 
> This is kind of embarrassing, but I ended up drawing a visual for this chapter. I really wanted to play with the image of Sonya and Kenshi in their civvies, thought it would look cool. I was wrong, but here's a [link](http://i430.photobucket.com/albums/qq29/jamesstorm1986/Mobile%20Uploads/image_zpsfij7s2al.jpeg) anyways.
> 
> Also because I was on a role, I did a visual for a later chapter. This one is spoilers, but it was a different pose for me, so I was excited to [share it](http://i430.photobucket.com/albums/qq29/jamesstorm1986/Mobile%20Uploads/image_zpsfc9inugg.jpeg). More civvies, all the Kenshi/Hanzo goodness. Seriously, there's no couple fanart for these guys, so I feel like I'm my own inspiration some days.
> 
> Hope this chapter is enjoyed, I actually think I kind of like this one? Maybe? I've already begun working on the next chapter, but somehow I also started working on the first chapter of a different fic, and I kind of feel like I maybe should post that one up first, because although that fic technically takes place sometime after this one, there's a mechanic in it that I invented that goes into detail in that fic, that will explain better the next chapter of this one. Confused? Yeah, so am I, most days.
> 
> Oh, one more thing. I have an inside joke to explain. My good friend who is aware of MKX and tolerates it because she loves me but knows little to nothing about the characters likes to point at Kenshi and call him 'Blind Tony Stark' or 'Low-Budget RDJ.' This makes me laugh uproariously, so that's probably going to turn up in a lot of my stuff from here on out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright everyone, let's all take a deep breath and agree to call this the 'chapter that my hormones wrote.' Because my first time around, I did not plan ANY of this. There wasn't supposed to be a sex scene in this story, and then it just kind of happened. *shrug* So for that I'm sorry... but also not really, because like I said, hormones happened. 
> 
> I've bumped up the rating appropriately and added a new warning, so take heed. Because the sex is very dubious. I'll post more thoughts on this at the end.

**Present day**

 

Kenshi awoke to soft, whispered voices, seeming to be hovering nearby. He couldn't quite make out what they saying... His brain was still very foggy from the drug he had been given, and he wasn't quite awake yet. It was going to be a struggle, he could tell already. He tried to move, trying to get a feel for his surroundings, but he quickly discovered that he was restrained. His arms were tied at the wrists and elbows, and those were tied to his back by a rope that circled his chest. His thighs and legs were similarly restrained. He could, technically, get himself out of it; he'd been trapped in harsher bindings than this and it would be a simple thing to get free. But right then it seemed like a poor idea... With these men hovering over him, it seemed like a very bad idea to draw attention to himself.

 

"The fuck do you mean, you didn't know?"

 

Kenshi tensed at the tone of that voice. He knew he knew the owner of that voice, but his mind was so crowded he could hardly think. He could, with his telepathy, make out the emotions of the other participant, although he didn't exactly need to. Their fear was evident in their tone, as was the anger in the others.

 

"I swear, we didn't know." The other voice replied, cracking with the extent of their fear. "We've hardly seen the man before, we didn't know what he looked like, much less that he was SF."

 

Kenshi stiffened at that. They knew. They knew, and he had no way of contacting Sonya, no way to reach the hidden phone locked away in the heel of his boot. He was going to have to depend on the gps for her to find him, but by then it could be too late...

 

"Get rid of him." The first voice cut in, and finally, finally Kenshi recognized the voice of Kano. "He's probably wired, or at the very least they have some kind of tracker on him. The last thing we need is some special forces horse shit storming this place. Kill him, dump in in the river or something, just get rid of him."

 

Kenshi tensed, as he heard the footsteps of the subordinate moving towards him. He seriously wasn't in any position to fight, but he was going to let them kill him without some kind of resistance. Then, he heard the man caught up short.

 

"Wait." Another voice broke in, and Kenshi dimly recognized that drawl, after a fashion. Erron Black. "Don't kill him. I have a use for him."

 

"Oh really?" Kano asked, skeptical. "And what might that be."

 

"Let's just say it's personal." Erron trailed off, and Kenshi could sense now, the man's gaze drifting over to him. It sent chills up his spine, even as he wondered what Black could want with him. They'd only crossed paths maybe a handful of times. He didn't know much about, other than what was reported in the file they had on him back at the HQ, and most of that had been redacted.

 

"You gonna fuck him?" Kano asked, and there was a leer in his tone that caused a shiver to run up Kenshi's spine.

 

Erron didn't sound the least bit amused by Kano's teasing. "What I plan to do is none of your business." He told him firmly.

 

Kano seemed to consider it for a moment. "Fine." He finally said. "But if we get found out..."

 

"We won't. I'll deal with him."

 

It was silent for a few moments longer, Kano clearly making his point, but after a moment he retreated, along with the henchmen, and few others who'd clearly been listening in on the conversation. Kenshi knew he was out of sorts, he should have noticed them otherwise.

 

Before long the room was cleared, and Kenshi was left alone... Just him and Black. He listened carefully as the man approached, hearing his Spurs rattle as he moved across the cool steel floor. He stopped when he was standing near to Kenshi's head, keeping silent for what seemed like ages.

 

"I know you're awake." The other man said, his voice dark and vaguely threatening.

 

Kenshi didn't reply, hardly dared to do more and breathe, as his mind raced to come up with options, something, anything he could do to get out of this. Before he could try anything, though, Erron reared back, kicking him hard, across his cheek, sending him sprawling. Kenshi hit the ground again, his head hitting the floor several times as he rolled with the force of the kick. By the time he finally came to a stop he was out cold again, helpless to defend against whatever Erron had planned for him.

 

**21 years ago**

 

He hit the ground hard. He wasn't sure why at first, the ringing in his ears temporarily drowning out everything else. He was surrounded by an incredible heat, felt his skin burn and his hair singe. Fortunately, it didn't seem to last long, merely wash over him before any permanent damage could be done. Still, it was probably the blast that knocked him out; he hit the concrete hard immediately fell unconscious. When he came to it was a struggle. His brain was sluggish, unnaturally slow to recover from the hard knock he'd taken. His limbs trembled, his mouth was dry. He wasn't sure how long he'd been out, but it had to have been for a few moments at least. He knew this because he'd been moved.

 

Instead of the scorched concrete shell of the bunker. He had been in, he now sensed the strong smell of slightly damp dirt. The feeling of young grass tickled against his skin. He didn't have much time to wonder how he'd gotten there. Before he'd had time to fully wake up, there was a hand at his back, yanking him upright by the collar of his shirt. Kenshi stumbled, and whoever had him steadied him, caught him up with big, rough hands. Kenshi was forced to lean on him for support. Whether the other man knew, or even cared about Kenshi's state he didn't know. The other man, whoever he was, attempted to drag Kenshi along, and Kenshi attempted to try and read the man, who was now so desperately trying to pull him forwards. He was startled when he wasn't able to pick up a damned thing.

 

That should not have been possible... And it held him up quite firmly in his tracks, despite the other man's insistent pull on his captive. He should have been able to read this person, to have sensed his identity with his power. To be able to scope out where he was with his senses. Why this information was suddenly ringing hollow to him... He didn't understand.

 

The other man quickly grew frustrated with Kenshi's lack of progress, roughly drawing him forward. Without warning, Kenshi found himself swung upwards, lying on his stomach across the other man's shoulder. His gut pressed his entire weight against the other's uncomfortably armored shoulder pad, pressing it hard against his center. He had tried to resist, initially, pulling backwards and reaching out with his mind for Sento. But the sword, ever swirling with a thousand minds of his warrior ancestors, was silent. No, worse than that, he slowly began to realize; the sword was nowhere near him. Whoever had taken him had left it behind, leaving Kenshi defenseless, powerless, and at the mercy of the man who was now carrying him. Kenshi felt sick, he felt in this moment, honestly, terribly alone. Never had he felt so vulnerable before, not even when he was first stricken blind. He'd had Sento to guide him then. What did he have now?

 

"Stop." Kenshi got out weakly, curling his fists around a plate of the armor the man carrying him was wearing.

 

The man did not stop. He did not even slow down.

 

Something in Kenshi's gut churned, and he didn't know if it was nerves from his situation, but he was feeling honestly, twistedly sick. He shook his head weakly, one hand curling to make a fist. He pounded it against the other man's back, again, lacking quite a bit of his usual strength, in an attempt to get the other man's attention. This was ridiculous, he thought to himself. He should not be fighting this hard to get the attention of the person that was carrying him. He wasn't some damsel, to be whisked away with hardly more than a whimper of protest. And through the forest, if the heavy scent of damp wood lead him correctly.

 

So he tried again, hitting the man's armor with his hand, voice picking up a little bit louder.

 

"Stop, please." He begged the other man. "Please set me down. I'm going to be sick."

 

The other man jerked, as though he hadn't expected the other man's voice to cut in. He didn't stumble, though, nor did he slow his pace.

 

Kenshi groaned, frustrated. He opened his mouth to try once again, only for his captor to interrupt him.

 

"Be silent..." The man spoke up, finally, his voice wrecked and strained. Kenshi was startled immediately to recognize the voice of Hanzo Hasashi. "I can't... I can't think."

 

Well, at least part of the puzzle had fallen into place. He'd been working with Hanzo lately, trying to help the man recover his mind. When he first was brought in by the Special Forces they'd had to keep him chained up, like an animal, so violent were his outbursts. Hanzo had been deeply mentally scarred by what he had been forced to do as Quan Chi's slave. He often behaved violently, even when unprovoked, seeing a new threat in every shadow, much like someone who had suffered from a traumatic event. Kenshi meditated with him daily, counseled him, used his power to read and center Hanzo. He was the only one able to get close to the other man without getting burnt. Kenshi thought the other man was doing well. Well, he had been doing well. He wasn't sure what had brought about this outburst, but clearly, something had startled Hanzo at the SF base, and he'd felt the need to flee, and take the one person he'd managed to connect with along.

 

Kenshi wondered what had triggered the outburst in him, but his recollection of what had happened before he woke up on the ground was still very foggy.

 

"Hanzo..." Kenshi said the name quietly, almost reverently, trying to reach the man as he would in their sessions, speaking softly. "What happened? What are we running from?" He asked the other man.

 

Hanzo didn't answer quite at first. The temperature around them shifted cooler, slightly, signaling to Kenshi that Hanzo had found them shelter somewhere, in the shade. It was here that the other man finally released him, setting him down, roughly. Kenshi stumbled, grabbing briefly onto Hanzo just to get his balance, before trying to push him away. Kenshi tried to pull back, wanting to put a safe bit of distance between them, but quickly found that Hanzo wouldn't allow it. As soon as Hanzo had him on his feet again, he restrained him, a hand tightly clutched his hip, while the other arm braced itself against his throat, forcing Kenshi's head up. He didn't press down, didn't choke him, but the implied threat was there. Quickly, Kenshi found himself pushed against what must have been a wall, as it was too smooth to have been a tree, effectively catching Kenshi and ensuring he could not escape.

 

Hanzo must have found a shack, or at least the ruins of one. Maybe to him this was shelter... Or more simply, it was a tool to contain Kenshi, and keep him hostage. The other man seemed to lack the will to let him go free. Hanzo didn't seem much like wanting to move from his spot, either, from where he had Kenshi cornered.

 

The air between them was very still for a moment.

 

"Why are you doing this?" Kenshi asked, at the risk of upsetting him.

 

Kenshi was surprised to suddenly have his neck released, as Hanzo took his hand and spread it out over Kenshi's cheek. He wasn't any less restrained than before... Hanzo still had a tight grip on his hip, and his chest was pressed tightly to his own. It would take Kenshi some serious force to push Hanzo away, and he could, he knew he could. But... Hanzo seemed disturbed. He didn't want to lose the progress he'd made with the other man simply because he'd made a mistake...

 

"I had to get out of there. It wasn't... It wasn't safe." Hanzo finally said, and his voice was tight, dry. His thumb gently caressed along the expanse of Kenshi's cheekbone, leaving behind a warm sort of feeling that washed over his skin. "I took you with me to protect you. They didn't... They wouldn't fire at me when I had you." Hanzo continued, and Kenshi heard an almost confused note in the tone. Inside, Kenshi knew the reason for that was those men probably didn't want to shoot at a CO who they probably assumed was a hostage. But Hanzo was clearly shaken, something wasn't right, he wasn't thinking clearly.

 

"Hanzo." Kenshi replied, softly. "We were safe at the base...." He told him. "I don't know what frightened you to make you feel like we weren't, but it doesn't matter, we need to go...."

 

Kenshi was brought up short by the sound of Hanzo rumbling low in his throat, the beginnings of a growl. Then he heard Hanzo utter something very small, a name. Kenshi gasped softly, and then suddenly, Hanzo's mouth was on his in a rough, biting kiss. Hanzo took advantage of his mouth already being open, letting his tongue slip inside.

 

Kenshi tried to resist, pulling back. But Hanzo refused to release him, and his hand found the back of Kenshi's head instead, sliding through his hair and holding him in place. Hanzo's other arm moved from his hip and slid around the small of his back, further caging him. Hanzo pulled him in hard, hip to hip, rubbing against one another. Kenshi didn't panic until he felt the evidence of Hanzo's need pressing hard against his hip.

 

This was wrong, Kenshi thought to himself, his hands finding Hanzo's shoulders in his attempt to escape. Hanzo wasn't himself, clearly didn't seem to know where he was, and absolutely positively didn't know who he was with.

 

If Kenshi was stronger, he could put a stop to this. But right then, his senses, typically so clear, so much better than everyone else's were dulled, and he was surrounded, absorbed by Hanzo, by the scent of his sweat, the sound of the man's breathing, harsh and ragged in his ear. The feel of him, those large muscles under his hands, holding him tightly, leaving no room for escape. The forest they were in faded out of existence, escaped his senses, and all he had to hold onto was Hanzo. It was oddly like floating. And Kenshi was weak, weak for not putting an end to this, for not fighting it. For, somewhat perversely, enjoying the treatment, to some degree, buried deep within him.

 

Hanzo broke off the kiss, allowing Kenshi to get in a gasping breath. But Hanzo was quickly on him again, his lips, teeth and tongue quickly attacking another part of his body,  biting down in the area just under Kenshi's jaw, leaving what Kenshi knows already is going to be a dark, claiming mark for the world to see.

 

"Stop." Kenshi begged again, shoving, hard, against Hanzo's shoulders. "I'm not... I'm not who you're seeing right now."

 

Hanzo continued on for a moment, as if he hadn't even heard him. The hand at Kenshi's back moved, gripping his behind and pulling him up, so that he was nearly dangling off of the ground. Kenshi let out a yelp, still trying to shove Hanzo off.

 

"Hanzo, please..." Kenshi tried again, still trying to push the other man away. "I'm not... I'm not her..."

 

At those small, terrified words, Hanzo abruptly stopped. He dropped Kenshi without warning, and the other man barely caught himself by holding onto Hanzo's shoulders.

 

Kenshi took a few, steadying breaths while he attempted to pull himself together. Hanzo grew terribly still and silent, seeming to wait until Kenshi got his bearings. Then, he grabbed Kenshi again, pulling him up and pushing him, hard, against the stone wall. Kenshi's head hit the brick hard and he whimpered out in pain, his hands moving to latch onto Hanzo's wrists. He didn't have an inch of a chance in fighting him off, not in his current state, but he still hoped he could soothe him, even without his power at his beck and call.

 

"What is this... A trick?" Hanzo demanded, gripping Kenshi's shoulders tightly, shoving him up against that wall again, unheeding of the pain it was causing Kenshi.

 

"Hanzo, I would never." Kenshi insisted, his voice weak. "Come on... You know me." He insisted. "Tell me what happened... What's the last thing you recall, before you came here with me?" He asked.

 

Hanzo grew quiet again. Very gently, he loosened his hold on Kenshi's shoulders, still holding him, but not to the point of pain.

 

"I... Kenshi?" Hanzo asked, and Kenshi nodded.

 

"It's me." Kenshi panted out. "It's me. Tell me... Tell me what happened. Please, Hanzo, I need to know."

 

It took Hanzo a few more minutes, long enough that Kenshi wasn't sure that Hanzo was going to answer. But eventually, Hanzo began to speak. "We were meditating." He said. "And I felt you... You were in my head, and you brushed on something."

 

Kenshi couldn't remember that. Everything that happened before they came to this place was a blur to him. So he tried to encourage Hanzo to continue.

 

"Yes? What was it?" He prodded gently.

 

"It was..." Hanzo breathed out slowly, shakily. "It was Jana."

 

Kenshi knew in that moment that he was a fool. He knew instantly what had happened, then, Kenshi'd made a mistake, probed too deeply into some tightly knotted hurt Hanzo had been dealing with, and accidentally brushed over some memory that had been buried too deep. Involving her, the woman he'd loved. Oh, what had happened to Hanzo's clan was nearly a decade old, but it wasn't like Hanzo had ever had time to cope, to grieve for the girl, or his child.

 

No wonder he was having such a hard time.

 

"This is all my fault." He said softly, and he could practically feel Hanzo cocking his head. "I did this, I hit on something in your mind I wasn't supposed to. I'm so, so sorry." He said to Hanzo.

 

Hanzo stared at him for a long moment. Kenshi could practically feel it, and he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck raise, so electrified with nerves as Hanzo studied him so intently. Kenshi worried then, that Hanzo was going to attack him, and Kenshi wasn't sure he could fend the other man off if he did.

 

Then, his fears were confirmed, as Hanzo suddenly grabbed him, yanking Kenshi forward, and shoving him up against the wall once more. He did it again, and again, Kenshi's head striking the brick with each strike, until Kenshi finally blacked out, collapsing uselessly into Hanzo's arms.

 

~

 

Kenshi was terrified.

 

Hanzo had lost his mind... Clearly. He didn't seem to know where he was, or who was there with him. Kenshi was feeling weak still, after being forced to teleport with the other man, and without Sento he was helpless to defend himself. His head still hurt from the force of Hanzo's attack, things were foggy, his concussed brain unable to make sense of basic things, like where Hanzo was carrying him to, what direction he was going in, or how long he had been out.

 

Hanzo had carried him to what must have been a very small shack in the middle of the forest they'd been roaming through. There wasn't much in the way of furniture, from what little he could tell... Except for the bed, covered in what seemed to be one very small, very light blanket. It was shoved up into a corner of the shack.. And he was promptly shoved on top of it. It wasn't terribly comfortable... A few of the springs dug into his back vindictively. 

 

He tried to sit up, at least move himself into a more comfortable position, but very quickly Hanzo's hands were on his shoulders, shoving him back down and holding him there.

 

"Do. Not. Move." Hanzo warned, his voice low, gruff and threatening. His fingers dug deeply into Kenshi's shoulders, and did not relent until Kenshi gave a weak, pained nod.

 

Kenshi could practically feel the anger radiating off of the other man, and the sad part was, Kenshi couldn't even blame him. He knew he wouldn't have been much different, if it had been him, his clan, his family. Ultimately, it was all Kenshi's fault anyways, for stirring up the memories. If it hadn't been for his stupid mistake, they'd both be in the safety of the bunker right now.

 

Now they were cold, alone, and somewhere Kenshi had no idea, and he was powerless to protect either of them. This was his fault, not Hanzo's.

 

He shook, slightly, as he listened to Hanzo pace the room, his rage consuming him, alighting Kenshi's skin, making him feel like he was burning.  Kenshi took a risk, and tried to sit up. If he could just talk to Hanzo, reason with him, maybe he could get the other man to take them back to the base. He just.. He didn't want to have this conversation while lying flat on his back.

 

He didn't expect Hanzo to suddenly come for him, snarling. He tore a gasp out of Kenshi's throat as he man handled him back onto the mattress, moving to cover him with his own body, his limbs seeking out Kenshi's to further pin him to the bed.

 

"I told you not to move!" Hanzo snarled, his hand snaking around one of Kenshi's wrists, pinning it to the mattress. His grip was tight, grinding the bones of Kenshi's wrist together, causing him to hiss out in pain.

 

"I just want to talk to you." Kenshi pleaded. "I promise you I'm not going anywhere. I just..."

 

He suddenly found the other man's hand on his throat. It wasn't... Tight, Kenshi could still breathe. Instead it was restricting, keeping him in place.

 

"I don't feel like talking." Hanzo replied, giving his neck the barest of squeezes. Kenshi swallowed, carefully testing that hold on him, before trying to continue anyways.

 

"We need to go back." Kenshi tried. "We don't have any way to defend ourselves out here, if we're attacked, I won't be able to help you."

 

"I don't need your help."

 

"You do." Kenshi replied. "Whether you want to admit it or not. I'm the only one who can help you regain your mind, your control. And whatever you did, however you got us here, it cut me off from my power. If we get back, we can figure out why. And then I can help you..."

 

"Don't act..." Hanzo warned dangerously, "Like you care so goddamn much. You know nothing of my pain, what I was forced to do."

 

"I want to understand." Kenshi argued, gasping as Hanzo began to squeeze. He didn't know if Hanzo realized what he was doing or not. The man was angry again, he could feel the fire burning hot under his flesh. "I care about you."

 

Hanzo let out a hoarse, dry laugh at that. "Don't act like I'm anything more than a project to you."

 

"Hanzo, you're not a project to me. I'm not trying to 'fix' you. You don't need to be fixed." Kenshi replied, his fist balling up the sheets in a tight knuckle grip. "I don't want to change who you are. I just want to help you, that's all." He said.

 

"If that deserves death, than quit drawing this out." Kenshi suddenly demanded. "Just kill me. Don't make me wait."

 

Hanzo kept quiet for a moment after that, seeming to be considering his words.

 

Kenshi wasn't sure what he was expecting after he made his demands, had no idea whether his gamble would pay off. What he wasn't expecting was Hanzo ducking in low, dragging Kenshi into a needy kiss that stunned him speechless.

 

He felt the other man's hand release his throat, which was a relief, in that he could finally get a full breath again. Or he could, if Hanzo was currently plundering his mouth, exploring him, tongue brushing against his. Hanzo was forceful in his exploration, holding Kenshi down, and he was helpless but to go along with it. Not that Kenshi would have otherwise resisted the treatment...

 

He had never, before that afternoon, kissed a man before. And Hanzo was good... Damned good. Usually it was Kenshi on top, caressing, touching, whispering sweet nothings as he plundered, finding himself resting between pretty, pale, feminine legs.  Hanzo was none of those things, and he held him down with actual weight. It was different, but not terrible

 

Kenshi felt a hand making its way up his side, tugging at the shirt he was wearing and pulling it up and out of the belt he was wearing. Then Hanzo's hands were on his stomach, sliding up to his chest, caressing a nipple, and it felt good. It was a maneuver he'd used before on a few pretty girls, but being treated that same way by someone larger than he was, that was an experience.

 

Hanzo released Kenshi's lips from the kiss, allowing Kenshi to take a breath, as Hanzo continued to explore him. The man pushed Kenshi's shirt up to let it bunch and twist around Kenshi's wrists, lightly restraining him in order to explore his body without interference.  Kenshi grabbed onto the shirt and the blanket underneath, bunching it up in his fists, as Hanzo began to lick and kiss his way across his abdomen. Kenshi took a harsh breath, tossing his head back as each individual little touch sent delicious shivers up his spine, racing down that column of nerves and sinking hot and heavy in his groin. Kenshi realized pretty quickly that he was getting hard from the treatment, and he knew that his window of opportunity to end this without anything embarrassing happening was shrinking pretty rapidly.

 

Hanzo bit a red mark into Kenshi's hip, just above the hem of his pants, before quickly undoing his belt and tugging them down. Kenshi was naked and exposed, and the cool air hitting his too sensitive cock gave him only a little relief.

 

Hanzo gently pushed Kenshi's thighs apart, taking a moment to take in the sight of him exposed, spread open,  ready to be taken.

 

Kenshi bit his lip as he felt Hanzo move in close, felt a rough hand gently take a hold of his straining dick. That hand stroked him, very gently, and a whimper escaped Kenshi's throat. He had been hard before Hanzo decided to touch him and he had a feeling that if Hanzo kept this up, he'd end spilling long before Hanzo intended him to.

 

But Hanzo released him, seeming to have other plans. Before Kenshi quite knew what was going on he found himself flipped over, onto his stomach, Hanzo's hands on his hips tugging him up to his knees. Kenshi began to breathe harder as he was arranged, placed into prime positioning to be fucked.

 

He'd never had sex with a man before, only knew the barest of basics, but he was fairly certain that when two men had sex there had to be some kind of lubricant... Otherwise, Kenshi was going to be in an awful lot of pain, and it wasn't exactly going to be good for Hanzo either...

 

And oh. Right away, Hanzo seemed to have it covered. He felt something warm and wet caress across his entrance, and it took Kenshi far too long to realize that Hanzo was licking him. Well, that was... One way, he thought to himself.

 

He could feel Hanzo parting his asscheeks, keeping him spread open wide, the man's tongue doing wicked, wicked things to him. He couldn't help the little cry he let out when that tongue first dipped inside of him. The stretch inside of him was strange... But not unpleasant. When Hanzo finally pulled away Kenshi almost regretted his absence. Then, clearly deeming him ready, Hanzo began to gently breech his hole with a slick wet finger.

 

Kenshi let out a bit of a yelp, his body jerking forward of its own volition, as his insides protested the intrusion and immediately clamped down. It hurt, a lot more than he thought something like that would.

 

"Oh..." He exhaled, shakily. He placed his forehead down against the mattress, panting softly, as he tried to force himself to relax. He felt Hanzo's hand gently caress his back, rubbing soothing circles in the small of it.

 

Hanzo twisted his finger inside, clearly searching for something, and Kenshi bit his bottom lip, trying to keep himself from crying out at the strange sensation. His limbs were shaking, he could barely keep himself upright, on hands and knees. Then suddenly, Hanzo hit it just right and Kenshi's nerves exploded in pleasure.  He had been fighting so hard not to collapse, but when Hanzo caressed that point he gave up, letting himself fall to the mattress, his dick straining hard against the fabric.

 

Hanzo continued to pet his back with his free hand, and Kenshi was grateful for the touch. It grounded him, as he tried to cope with what was happening between his thighs.

 

Hanzo gently pulled out, leaving Kenshi bereft for a moment. Then, that finger returned with another and both were pushed inside. They moved with intent, gently stretching him, pushing him apart, spreading him and readying him to take something bigger than both fingers combined. It hurt, again, but those little, teasing glances against his prostate helped to mitigate some of it.

 

Another finger was added, spending some time stretching him, getting him good and wet and loose. Kenshi was still apprehensive about all of this. Three fingers were good, oh, it was so good, but he still worried about taking Hanzo's length.

After a bit, those fingers were removed, Hanzo raising him up again, and Kenshi cringed to feel Hanzo's dick pressing insistently at his entrance. Hanzo's knees, gently parting his thighs, hands on his ass holding him wide apart so that he could have room. He clenched his fists and grit his teeth as the other man took a hold of his hips and began to slowly, steadily push in.

 

It hurt, far more than the fingers did, and Kenshi's breathing picked up, almost to the point of hyperventilating, his heartbeat racing as he tried to work through it. Hanzo waited for him, patiently, warm hands caressing his hips, his back, tracing over his buttocks, his thighs. Kenshi used Hanzo's concerned touch to force himself back down to earth, to stop panicking. To relax, and make this easier on himself. His thighs still quivered in pain, but after a moment, it began to feel better. It still felt like an intrusion, a violation, maybe, but it wasn't awful.

 

Hanzo pushed further into him, and Kenshi's world spun, going grey at the edges. He dipped forward without realizing, momentarily slipping into a faint but Hanzo's arms suddenly caught him, dragging him up and carefully settling him into his lap. He came to very quickly, and Hanzo was still very much inside of him, and he could feel it a lot deeper from this angle.

 

And Hanzo wasn't even finished, he still had so far to go.

 

"Relax." Hanzo whispered, holding Kenshi tightly. He began to press small, feather light kisses against the back of his neck, soothing, caressing, chapped lips comforting him as he worked to adjust to the sensation of having something so huge so deep inside of him. His own hands scrambled for a moment, catching onto Hanzo's thighs, digging his fingernails into the flesh there with little care. Hanzo was clearly too far gone to care about the holes Kenshi was tearing into his skin.

 

Slowly, Kenshi began to come around. He began to relax, and Hanzo moved with each new centimeter that Kenshi allowed. It wasn't too much longer before he was completely impaled on the other man, his seemingly huge length buried deep inside. He could have sworn he felt it in his abdomen, though he knew that had to be impossible.

 

Hanzo merely cradled him in his lap, holding him close, letting him grow accustomed to the feeling. Kenshi still ached, was still sore, but the longer he sat there, Hanzo's dick firmly inside of him, the less it ached, turning into a sort of pleasant pain that was odd to describe, but he wanted it, oh, he wanted more.

 

Carefully, experimentally, Kenshi rolled his own hips, and was stunned by the overwhelming feeling of pleasure that washed over him. Taking this as a kind of sign that Kenshi was ready, Hanzo grabbed a hold of his hips, guiding Kenshi up and off of him, until just the head was still inside, and then slamming Kenshi back down onto him.

 

The sound that escaped Kenshi was a kind of strangled moan, and he tossed his head back, letting it rest against Hanzo's shoulder.

 

It was slow going, moving in this way, and Hanzo took his time with him. On each down stroke Kenshi would arch his back, attempting to recreate the stroke that sent shivers so deliciously racing up his spine the first time. He could hit it, but it just wasn't enough, he needed it harder, faster, but when he tried to do this for himself Hanzo would grip his hips to the point of bruising and keep him at that same, slow pace.

 

It was torture... It wasn't enough. He didn't care if he'd hurt for it later he wanted more.

 

"Please." Kenshi whispered, placing his hands over Hanzo's, where they supported his hips. "Please, I need..." He groaned, unable to quite vocalize what exactly he wanted, but Hanzo seemed to understand anyways.

 

He gently pulled out, moving to turn Kenshi over and place him back down on the bed, on his back. His legs fell open almost naturally, as if he was meant to be spread out in front of this man, to be used by him.

 

Kenshi chewed on his lip as Hanzo settled over him, tugging his legs up by his knees and positioning them over his broad shoulders. Hanzo then tugged his hips up off of the bed, bending them forward, just slightly. The noise he makes when Hanzo re-enters him then is so soft, so needy, but the new position by itself is helping.

 

Then Hanzo began to move, and Kenshi couldn't bottle up the scream that emerged from him. Hanzo took very little care this time, moving hard, moving quickly, spurred on by the little sounds escaping Kenshi with each new thrust, the way the man clenched down on him without realizing he was doing it. All Kenshi could do was grab onto Hanzo's shoulders and hold on, riding the other man's cock with a kind of wild abandon that was honestly beautiful to him to see.

 

All too soon, Kenshi was coming, without even once needing to be touched by Hanzo.

 

Hanzo watched Kenshi collapse against the bedsheets, overwhelmed. His fingers slowly released his hold on his shoulders as Kenshi weakly fell back. He likely blacked out after that, Hanzo couldn't tell.

 

He continued to fuck Kenshi, with the other man limp and unaware of it for several more minutes, before finally finding his release himself.

 

 

~

 

Kenshi woke up the next day. Or, at least he figured it was the next day. Not being able to look outside and see where the sun stood in the sky was a disadvantage, to be certain. He had other ways of telling, of course, but to do that, he needed to get up and get out...

 

He paused, half way up to his elbows, when fire suddenly raced up his back, starting at his hips and moving upwards.. It took only a second after that for him to feel, and consequently remember, the very, very intimate pains of his coupling with Hanzo the night before. He dropped back to the mattress with a pained groan. He couldn't help it. Something had definitely torn down there, and just moving right then felt like an atrociously bad idea.

 

"Hanzo?" He called out, only for his own voice to echo right back at him from the confines of the small cabin.

 

So apparently, the man had left him. Figures. He couldn't help but feel a little abandoned at that. Used, and subsequently forgotten. At the very least, he didn't feel sticky, so, the man must have cleaned him while he was out. But then he left him, and Kenshi didn't have any idea what he was supposed to do now.

 

Not knowing if or when Hanzo would return was a problem. He gently pushed down the light blanket that was covering him, letting it pool over his waist as he tried again to sit up. This time, he bit his lip to ignore the pain, struggling to get himself up. He managed, with great difficulty, to set his feet on the floor. He very carefully pushed himself to his feet... And nearly fell over for his effort. Somehow, he managed to catch himself.

 

"Hanzo?" He called out again, as he held his hands out, trying to get a grasp on just how big this shack was. He pressed his hand on a wall not too long after he got up... So it was small, apparently. Just big enough for the bed, and probably an old iron cook stove in the corner. When he reached that, his suspicions were confirmed.

 

After a moment of feeling the place out, he managed to find his clothing bunched up on the floor. Well. He found his shirt and his briefs. The pants and everything else were still strangely missing.

 

He pulled on what he could, with great difficulty. It hurt for him to move, much less pull on what little of his clothing he could find. But he wanted to be somewhat covered before he made his way outside of the shack.

 

Thus, barely covered and wearing only his shirt and unders, he began to make his way outside. It took him a moment to find the door, the frame clutched in his hand, as he took careful steps onto the wooden pathway just outside.

 

"Kenshi."

 

That brought him up short. Ah, so Hanzo hadn't left him behind after all.  That was a good thing, he thought. Until his power returned to him, he needed the other man's support.

 

"You shouldn't be out here, you should be resting." Hanzo admonished. Kenshi simply shrugged, and took a careful step towards the sound of Hanzo's voice.

 

"You scared me." Kenshi tried to explain. "I woke up, and I was alone. I didn't know where you had gone and right now I can't..."

 

Hanzo hushed him softly, he could hear the sound escape him as a soft hiss. "I'm here now." Hanzo told him.

 

The man began to move over to him quickly, and it sounded, to Kenshi's trained ears, like the man was carrying something heavy. Kenshi carefully pushed away from the doorframe, curious, only for a wave of pain to wash over him, causing his knees to weaken and his legs to give out violently. But before Kenshi could hit the ground face first, he heard Hanzo toss aside whatever he was carrying and race towards him. He was quickly caught up by the other man, his big arm catching him under his shoulder and around his back. Caught with only one arm. Right, it could sometimes be disenchanting just how strong Hanzo was.

 

Hanzo gently helped Kenshi to the ground, having Kenshi straddle his thigh, his hands protectively on Kenshi's hip and back to give him balance. One of Kenshi's hands rested against Hanzo's chest, while the other one settled gently on Hanzo's neck. He was right, apparently. Kenshi was in no shape to be going anywhere.

 

Taking advantage of the somewhat intimate position, Kenshi leaned in, resting fully against Hanzo's chest, his head finding its place against Hanzo's shoulder. Hanzo gently rubbed Kenshi's back, seeming to study Kenshi for a moment. Absurdly, he wanted to close his legs, as if Hanzo's stare had somehow become obscene.

 

"You need rest." Hanzo scolded again, very lightly. "You tore last night. I don't have anything to treat it, and leaving the safety of the cabin will put you at risk for infection." He said.

 

"Besides..." Hanzo trailed off, and suddenly, one of his hands left Hanzo's and came to rest against Kenshi's cheek. "I should be much remiss if anything happened to you."

 

Kenshi grimaced a bit, lifting his head up from Hanzo's shoulder so that he could speak. "I'm not sure I'm any safer in the cabin than I am out here." He pointed out. Kenshi knew the makings of an old, abandoned home, and that one had been for a long, long time. He could smell the dust that hung heavily in the air, the scent of water damage and probably mold. Surely that place wasn't good for his health.

 

"It's defensible." Hanzo argued.

 

Kenshi wasn't stunned to feel Hanzo's lips suddenly against his, very sweetly pressing against his lips, seeking entrance, which Kenshi granted. Hanzo was actually fairly talented in this department. Kenshi had never kissed another man before Hanzo, let alone had sex with another man, but if he's had anything to judge by, he'd say that Hanzo was fairly talented in both departments.

 

That... That didn’t make any of it right. Hanzo was still a little off, ever since his outburst... Kenshi kind of felt like he was taking advantage.

 

And how screwed up was that, considering that he was the blind, powerless one at the moment. Still... Shouldn't he be putting up more of a resistance?

 

All thoughts of complaint were brought to a grinding halt when the other man began to touch him. Kenshi pulled back, letting out a groan as the other man palmed his ass, hand slipping beneath the briefs he was wearing. His finger slid between his cheeks, gently bumping up against his hole, which seemed to quiver in light pain in anticipation of being breached again.

 

Kenshi dug his fingers into Hanzo's shirt in warning, shaking slightly. Hanzo might have been ready for another round, but Kenshi certainly wasn't.

 

"Hanzo, stop." Kenshi warned the other man, and was relieved when the other man listened, gently pulling his hand back.

 

Kenshi sighed, as if he had just used up whatever energy he had left, and let himself collapse against the other man's chest again. He was shaking, he knew it, he could feel it. Everything was over-sensitized, and he felt wrung out and raw. Hanzo's hand found the small of his back, cradling him gently, in a movement that was much more comforting than before.

 

"I need to get you inside." Hanzo decided, and Kenshi couldn't tell from the sound of his voice whether he was concerned or merely commenting on Kenshi's dismal state. Kenshi shook his head, raising his head up so that he could speak to Hanzo.

 

"I don't want to go back there, we need to go back to the base." Kenshi said, realizing by now it was kind of a tired song from him. Hanzo wasn't at all interested in returning to the base, even to drop off Kenshi, and he never explicitly explained why.

 

"We're not going back." Hanzo gave him the expected answer. He shifted, as he moved to stand, pulling Kenshi up with him. Kenshi had to hold onto Hanzo tightly, his own legs too shaky to support him. Hanzo kept a tight hold on him as he moved to gently lift Kenshi up, getting his arm under the other man's legs, and carrying him pointedly back to the little shack.

 

"Why?" Kenshi demanded, grasping the collar of the other man's shirt. "Why can't we go back? Hanzo, I'm powerless here. I don't what transporting me here did to me, but I can't..." Kenshi swallowed again, realizing he'd been shaking badly this entire time, and it was affecting the way his words were coming across. He sounded so weak, like a kitten. Not the image he wanted to project. 

 

"I can't... Access my power, and I don't know why. My sword is back at the base. I don't know where we are, or what's around us, and if we're attacked I'm going to be entirely dependent on you to defend us. I do not want to be a causality because I was attacked while you were distracted." Kenshi tried to explain.

 

Hanzo didn't respond right away. Kenshi could hear the heavy thud of his boots as Hanzo entered the tiny cabin, and Kenshi sighed, resigned to being ignored again. He was set, carefully, down upon the old mattress.  Kenshi hissed as his body protested, hips and ass tensing as he tried to find a position to lay in that didn't hurt. It wasn't easy to do.

 

"Do not underestimate what I can do." Hanzo warned him. "I could protect you if it came down to it."

 

"So you're just going to keep me here, without explanation?" Kenshi demanded, finally beginning to lose his temper with the other man.

 

"Why? What's the point? Am I your prisoner now? Or worse?" Kenshi continued, his fists balling up the sheets under his hands. "Am I your whore, someone for you to use, to spill your seed on and forget about until you have use of me again?"

 

Hanzo moved forward at that, quickly, and Kenshi couldn't help the flinch, thinking for a moment that Hanzo had planned to strike him. Instead, he found the other man's hand resting carefully against his cheek, with an unexpected gentleness, considering their previous conversation.

“I…” Hanzo said softly, his voice taking on, for him, and unusually soft tone. “I killed three men to get you out of there.” He told Kenshi softly.

Three men? How did Hanzo…

Suddenly, it hit him. Three men. The men who came with him, for his own protection, at Sonya’s insistence, when he’d been called for when he first heard about Hanzo’s fit. Those three men each had names, had families. He’d worked with them for a while now, and he wouldn’t exactly call them friends, he didn’t know them the way he knew Sonya, but they were co-workers, people he relied on, who relied on him. And Hanzo had ended them, in one blinding flash of insanity… How stupid was he that he hadn’t even thought of them until now?

“Oh…” Kenshi said quietly, not really knowing what to say.

Hanzo simply nodded, looking to Kenshi. “I can’t go back.” He told him firmly. “I _won’t_ go back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you the sex was dubious, didn't I? Although in my head, past-Kenshi wanted it, just kind of regretted it after the fact, the way most of us do. past-Hanzo at this point is still ten kinds of crazy from Quan Chi's mind fucking, and isn't 100 percent sure of what he's doing all of the time at this point. It's an entirely fucked up situation, and yeah, if some of you have ever looked at the other bullshit I've written, (totally not a plug, *hack*) you can see it's the kind of shit I eat up.
> 
> I make people happy, and then I make them sad.
> 
> At the very least, Hanzo and Kenshi will have a happy ending. That is until Irreverence happens. Because for that I'm not so sure.

**Author's Note:**

> I have written literally reams, and reams, and reams of stuff for this fandom, and in particular, for Hanzo/Kenshi, over the last few months. So here's my sad, sorry attempt to try to finally bring it all together. If I get to finish it, it'll set the tone for any future fanfics I'll end up writing for this fandom down the road, unless otherwise stated. So that means, yes, this is kind of a prequel to [**This Captive Moment**](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5929588). I can't promise regular updates, because my schedule is a little hectic at the moment, but I'll try to work on it whenever I get some downtime.
> 
> Tags will be updated as other characters are introduced, and as situations in the story changed. For now, everything that I have planned is listed. 
> 
> And once more, I'd like to apologize in advance for any weirdness in my writing. I'm not a patient editor, and I've never used a beta reader. Besides, I took like a two-year vacation from writing until I started working on this. The brain cells are a little rusty.


End file.
